


Blood, Sweat and Tears

by ChibiMoon



Category: One Punch Man
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Figuring Things Out, Love, M/M, also a lot of crying lmao, genos gets his human body back, not an au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-28 22:38:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8465638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiMoon/pseuds/ChibiMoon
Summary: He doesn't quite remember how it happened, yet, somehow, Genos finds himself having to relearn exactly what it means to be human.





	1. Rage

**Author's Note:**

> Ive been dying to write about human(you know what I mean) Genos. I hope you guys stick around to read it. This is sort of the intro/prologue. More to come!

100 push ups. 100 sit ups. 100 hundred squats. 10 kilometer run. Every single day.

That had been his life, day in and day out, for months now, with one goal in mind: to get stronger.

He knew his body was weak. By the end of the first day he had been a heaving, quivering mess. By the end of the first week, he was sure he was insane, sore and sobbing into his pillow. He felt his body break and his hopes of being a hero broke with them.

But each morning he got up and did it again. And again. And after a month it started getting a little easier. After two months he started to see the results. 

By the third month he had slipped into his daily routine like a second skin, going through the motions of an exercise regimen that had once seemed daunting, now gave him something to look forward to each day. 

Currently,he was on his 10 km run, a route he had memorized like the back of his hand. Down the two blocks from the apartment, left at the convenience store, a loop around the old tree with the burn patch, through the park, down a few more blocks and past the laundro mat, then turn around at the bakery's that would just be opening for the day and double back, completing the 10 km.

Except this day, he ran past the tree, past the park, past the bakery and just kept going. The cool wind whipped at his hands and face, but his track suit kept him warm enough as he ran, blind to the elements, to his surroundings. He didn't know where he was going, he just ran, and ran.

Music blared in his ears, something upbeat designed to get the heart pumping, to motivate you, but despite the loud techno pulsing through his headphone, the music suddenly sounded far away. 

His breath was ragged, his chest heaved and his feet struck pavement until it struck sand and he ran, and ran, until finally, he stopped, just as he struck water.

He had reached the beach. Breath still heaving, he ripped the headphones from his ears, sickened by the sound of his own ragged breath that filled his ears in the absence of the music. 

It was the off season, and the sun had hardly risen so he was alone, standing ankle deep in the waves that lapped gently at his legs. It was cool out, the water damn near freezing but all he could feel was the heat that radiated off his face, the sweat that dripped from his hair and ran down his neck.

His breathing filled the air. His heartbeat filled his ears. Adrenaline filled his veins and something, something filled his chest, something dark and writhing and angry.

If it wasn't for the damn ocean he felt he could have run forever, just keep going on and on until either the world ended or his life did. But this vast sea of blue, this great expanse of calm, had other plans for him, decided to stop him in his tracks, tell him to take a moment and just wait. He almost hated it for that.

The chill seeped into bones and he snapped back to reality, realizing he had waded almost chest deep into the soothing blue depths. As the water stilled around him he finally glanced at the reflection that glared back at him and that he did hate.

Light brown eyes, a mop of sweaty blonde hair drying haphazardly in the wind. A fair, handsome face flushed from exertion and a body that was flesh and blood and sweat and tears and so damn weak.

Eyes stinging,Genos clenched his fists and fought the dark, writhing feeling in his chest until it finally bubbled over and up and burst from his chest in the form of a scream, full of all the rage and frustration and fear and confusion from the past six months. Luckily, no one was around to hear or see the hero formerly known as Demon Cyborg, had a very human moment all to himself.

\---

If you were to ask him about the battle, he would say it was all a blur. A lot of things happened that night and a lot of good men and women gave their lives to protect the people of the earth.

At the time, Genos had not thought he would make it out alive, but he could have died gladly knowing he got to fight alongside Saitama-sensei in his Senseis moment of shining glory.

The world had finally faced a truly God level threat. And the world finally acknowledged Saitama as the great hero he was. The world had been plunged into chaos and an endless night where time was warped and demons and monsters ran amok, dancing at their master's bidding. Oceans boiled, mountains floated, cities were leveled, and in the final hours, finally, the world turned to the one man who could save them all. All that he remembered so clearly, so vividly he could see his masters face, as he approached, ready to end it all with one punch. Broken and near death, Genos had been grateful to see his master one last time, so proud to finally hear the masses chant his name. The earth was burning, the days were numbered, and Genos was glad that finally, finally, Saitama was getting the adoration he deserved.

But after that, it all became a blur, a muddle of sounds and colors and pain. He remembered lying at the feet of the titan that threatened the world and had almost taken his life. He remembered seeing Saitama-sensei appearing in the hazy darkness and feeling his dread turn to a peaceful calm. And then saitama sensei was by his side and he spoke and Genos couldn't remember what was said, but then he felt weightless as if he was floating which made no sense given his metal body (even if it had been missing most of its limbs) and then, all he knew was darkness and fear and pain oh god was there pain. It felt as if his whole body was on fire and burning and someone was screaming and he felt strong arms around him and senseis voice say something but he couldn't hear over the screaming and-

And then he was waking up, and he was in a soft white bed. The burning skies had been replaced by chipped white ceiling tiles. The scorched earth was now pale green walls and the only sound in the room he could hear was the soft beeping of the machine he was hooked up to.

His head was groggy and his chest felt heavy and it took a long minute to realize that rasping in his ear was the sound of his own breath, that the dull roaring in his skull was his own blood pumping through his veins.

With a growing alarm and a surprising amount of effort, Genos managed to lift his arms and what he saw there made him sick. No metal, no weapons, no seams or plates. Human. Pale skin, flesh and blood human. And suddenly there was that screaming again and it wasn't long before he realized he was the one screaming. 

\---

Saitama’s eyes trailed lazily from the manga he was reading to the clock on the table. To any passer by he might look the image of bored, but to anyone who stuck around they would quickly realize that the young man was in fact anxious, as he had been checking the time almost every minute on the minute for the past half hour. Occasionally he would even drum his fingers on the floor or fidget with his empty mug. It was clear that Saitama was, for some reason, nervous,and that finally, with an exasperated sigh, he tossed aside his worn manga and carried his empty cup to the kitchen to make a fresh batch of tea, if only to have something to distract himself with.

“I'm home,” Genos’ voice called from the hallway only a few moments later, followed shortly by the thunk of the front door shutting and then a damp, sloshing sound.

“Ah, good timing,” Saitama called back, his voice casual, but the small smile that tugged at his lips would give him away in an instant. “I'm just putting tea on.”

As the kettle began to boil Saitama peeked his head into the hallway. “You're a little late huh? Everything go o- hey! You're soaking wet!”

Genos sat there, jacket slung over one shoulder, white t shirt clinging to his chest, puddles forming at his feet. He was struggling to untie his sodden laces and to keep his damp hair out of his eyes.

“I know. I apologize for the mess, Sensei. I'll clean it up right away,” Genos rose as he spoke, despite only having worked off one shoe and made his way (Saitama presumed) to fetch towels.

“Hold it!” Saitama stopped the young man in his tracks with just a finger to his chest. “You're not tracking water through the house. Stay here, I'll get the towels.”

Saitama did just that and by the time he got back Genos had managed to work off his other sodden sneaker. Genos looked slightly winded just from that slight exertion but Saitama chose not to say anything and instead plopped a fluffy white towel onto Genos’s sopping head and playfully ruffled it “There ya go!”. From the grumpy look Genos shot him once he peeked his head back out, Saitama could tell he wasn't in the mood for jokes.

Saitama dropped another towel on the ground to soak up the puddles and… sand?

“Did you, uh, go to the beach?” Saitama asked, sounding a bit wary.

“Yes. I over shot my usual route a bit,” Genos replied, peeling off his wet t shirt.

“Mhmm. And you decided to go for a swim…?” Saitama asked over his shoulder as he fetched some clothes from the hamper. 

Genos glanced down at his soaking form and had enough grace to look guilty as he lied. “I did not think it would hurt to add an extra skill set to the daily regimen so I decided to attempt adding 100 laps since aerobic exercise is…” Genos trailed off at the look of disbelief Saitama shot him. He wasn't fooling anyone. 

“Yes, I… decided to go for a swim,” Genos concluded. Saitama didn't press the issue.

“Alright. I don't want you pushing yourself too hard. This was your first day doing the training regimen on your own, that's a feat enough in itself,” Saitama said in what he meant to be a reassuring tone and hoped it didn't sound as condescending to Genos as it did to himself. He winced at the hurt look that crossed his disciples face. Apparently it did.

“Of course, sensei. I won't do it again. Thank you for believing in me and allowing me to go alone this morning.”

“Of course, man. Now, strip out of the rest of those clothes and go take a shower. Tea will be ready when you're out and I'll make breakfast.”

Genos looked like he was going to argue that he should be the one making breakfast but Saitama shushed him. Once Genos had stripped naked and toweled off, Saitama shoved some clean dry clothes into his hands. For just a moment Genos's arms brushed his own as he took the proffered clothes and Saitama caught a glimpse of the other man's forearms- fair, smooth, well-toned and developing from his daily workouts, but marred by several jagged scars, still pink and fresh. After a slight hesitation he ushered the younger man into the bathroom.

 

It wasn't until he heard the shower running that Saitama finally let out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding.

The last few months had been… difficult to say the least. It went without saying that Genos had had…. some issues adjusting to his new life. Luckily though, Genos seemed to have made leaps and bounds in progress in the last month alone. 

Saitama thought that Genos was finally doing well enough to be able to trust the guy to be alone with himself for a bit but after a stunt like this Saitama wasn't so sure anymore.

At the End of the World… a lot had happened. A lot that Saitama didn't want to think about. In the end all that mattered was that yet again, he had won, and somehow, the world had returned to normal. Life went on and most days he could completely forget that for a brief moment the people of earth had turned to him with stars in their eyes and hope in their hearts. That for a moment he thought he might finally face an enemy that would prove a true challenge. That for just a moment he saw his only friend, dying at his feet because yet again, he had arrived too late.

Saitama took a deep breath and stretched. He didn't want to think about all that now. His stomach growled and reminded him of what was important and he got to work on breakfast. 

\---

Genos threw his sopping clothes into the laundry hamper in the bathroom as the shower began to run hot. He stepped into the scalding downpour and winced. He still had a bad habit of forgetting his new limits. There was once a time he could walk through fire without batting an eye or stand stock still in a barrage of bullets but now something as simple as slightly too hot water made him yelp like a small child.

He adjusted the water and stepped fully into the spray, groaning as the warm water beat a pattern against his sore muscles. Sweat and salt were washed away as well as some of the tension he had been carrying in his neck. He tried to be like Saitama sensei, to just breath and relax, but he found that a feat more easier said than done. Saitama could handle anything you threw at him. Genos was struggling just handling things.

The patter of the water on his back was a strong contrast to the calm pulse of the ocean before, but he still found it comforting nonetheless.

After a moment of just rinsing off he reached for the soap, working it into a lather and scrubbing himself off. His neck and shoulders, down his chest and belly to his legs. He dipped quickly between his legs and the still foreign-feeling organ that he was still growing accustomed to, trying to block out certain embarrassing memories that were still too fresh and painful to linger on. 

Finally he grabbed the shampoo, something sweet smelling and fruity and lifted his arms to lather his hair. He had successfully managed to avoid looking at his arms this whole time but now it was impossible to avoid, impossible to ignore the scars he had caught Saitama sensei glancing at on more than one occasion. 

The pink scars were a blaring red in the heat of the shower. He knew one day, with proper medical treatment, they could fade and be almost imperceivable. But for now he chose to keep them, a grim reminder of his own arrogance and foolishness. A reminder of his new humanity and all that implied.

Clenching his fists, Genos let out a sigh and shut his eyes to douse his head in the stream once more, suds sliding playfully down his neck and chest. 

He had been human for fifteen years, happy and carefree and confident in what he wanted to do with his life. And then all that was taken from him and he spent the next six years as a cyborg, trying to distance himself from that humanity, to be a machine built for fighting and revenge. But that was okay because he had managed to rebuild the confidence he had lost, he had rediscovered that happiness in Saitama. Being Saitama senseis disciple gave him a goal, something to look forward to. Together they could stand together and fight evil and he would grow even stronger under his masters teachings. 

And then, six months ago, that too was taken from him and somehow… he was this. Human again. Flesh and blood and incapable of ever reaching Saitamas strength. It was unfair. It was maddening. 

Six months as a human were far more difficult than six years as a cyborg but he had finally accepted his fate for what he was, though in the beginning there had been some… incidences, that he would rather leave forgotten in the past but sadly, as the scars on his arms served as a grim reminder, they weren't going away anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((I don't wanna give spoilers but I'd like to just say that his scars are not self harm scars and were not inflicted on purpose))


	2. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks everyone who is diggin this story!! i really am! :'D i love me some cyborg genos but i also love the idea of him coping with being fully human again.
> 
> anyway, the first 3 chaps will kinda flash back and forth through out the past 6 months but after that it should be much more linear (and not so angsty!! more fluff i promise!!)
> 
> ((also tune in next time as genos gets reacquainted with..ahem...certain body parts :'D))

It was nearly a month after the battle of the End, and Genos was not handling the sudden humanity that had been thrust upon him so suddenly. While he could already walk and talk in this new body, he still needed to practice to get everything down pact, to be able to move fluidly and confidently. Basically he was like a newborn deer walking on its own for the first time. 

That alone was embarrassing in itself but luckily he was secluded in one of the HAs luxury hospitals and alone outside the few physical trainers that came to assist him in his progress. There he relearned how to use a natural, fully functioning body, luckily far away from the pitying eyes of his Sensei. While he missed his senseis presence, he was definitely glad Saitama wasn't there to witness him reacquainting himself with the urges of having to go to the bathroom. Genos was forever grateful his sensei didn't witness him the day he woke up in a puddle of his own urine because he hadn't woken up in time to hobble to the bathroom.

 

Sadly, not long after that he was discharged, and Saitama-sensei was around to not only witness but to be a target of his next big human faux pas.

 

It was Genos's first night back home and Saitama had cooked a celebratory dinner. Nothing too extravagant, just a hot pot like they usually made but with extra fancy meat. It was the first real food Genos had had since being in the hospital and he was glad to see that Saitama went through the trouble to celebrate his return. 

 

After the shock of losing his cyborg body and gaining a human one it was nice to have a moment of familiarity. It was almost like the days before, when he and Saitama would enjoy a simple meal together after fighting bad guys all day. For the first time in a month Genos felt at peace.

 

Sadly, about half way through the meal he stopped feeling at peace and began feeling something else. Saitama had been filling him in on what had been going on since the End but trailed off when Genos set his unfinished bowl back on the table.

 

“So basically everything's going back to normal and everywhere is under construction-…. What's wrong,” Saitama muttered around a mouthful of noodles. Genos's brow knit in confusion.

 

“I'm… not sure,” he replied, slightly breathless. He pressed a hand to his belly and his face had a clammy green tint. “I think... I'm malfunctioning.”

 

“Hm…,” Saitama muttered and set his bowl down, scooting around the table to sit at Genos's side. He leaned in to gently press his palm to Genos's forehead. “People don't really “malfunction” Genos. You feeling okay, man?”

 

“I…,” Genos began but that's all he got out before _everything_ came out and even Saitama didn't have the reflexes needed to dodge a sudden deluge of vomit. There was a moment of stunned silence in which Saitama looked shocked and Genos wore an expression of absolute horror and humiliation. Then there was a flurry of Saitama trying to get out of his clothes without spreading the mess and Genos apologizing profusely, despite Saitama insisting _don't worry about it, it happens, do you feel any better, don't get it in the food_ shortly followed by, “If you still feel sick try to make it to the- no!”

 

Genos looked like he was going to retch again and Saitama quickly hefted him about the waist and swiftly dumped him in the bathroom.

 

That was how they learned Genos was not quite ready to stomach real food yet. 

 

Genos could hardly look Saitama in the eye for days after that and took to cleaning every nook and cranny in the apartment, pouring himself into any menial chore he could. Keeping busy helped stave off the waves of embarrassment, rage and helplessness. It was beyond frustrating how quickly this body grew tired but he had always been stubborn and tenacious and pushed through so that each night at bed time he was so exhausted he would pass out near immediately, effectively avoiding any awkward conversations with Sensei.

 

Sadly, there were only so many chores that could distract him from the one thought that plagued him on a daily basis. He was human again. Without his cyborg enhancements he did not have the power to be an S class hero anymore. Luckily he could fix that. He had been transformed into a cyborg once before he could do it again. 

 

In the early days after reawakening as a human after the End, he had approached Dr Kuseno with such a request. Dr Kuseno had been by his side for much of his rehabilitation, absolutely baffled by the transformation, but supportive all the while. 

 

“I do not understand how this could have happened, Genos,” the doctor had said, examining Genos's human body as if he needed further evidence that years of his best work had really been erased overnight. “A lot of… strange things happened during,... well,... you were there in the front lines most of the time. I'm sure you're aware of the chaos the Earth experienced in those last days.”

 

Genos sat naked on the exam table, unashamed in front of the one man he could consider family. He too observed his new body. 

 

“I am, Doctor. Though I still don't fully recall how… this,” Genos gestured vaguely at himself. “Came about.”

 

It was obvious Genos viewed his new body with disdain, but Dr Kuseno was shocked at what Genos said next.

 

“The doctors here want to run a few more tests to see if my body has any lingering traces of whatever caused this, though so far their tests have merely proven that I am your typical human male. Soon they should release me, and then we can begin modifying my body once again.”

 

Genos was still observing his new arms and legs or he would have seen Dr. Kuseno’s eyebrows shoot past his hairline.

 

“Modifying-?...Ah yes, that is... something you still desire…?”

 

Genos’s eyes shot up then, his fists gripping the cold metal table he sat on. “Of course! Nothing has changed from before, Doctor, I still seek the power to destroy the mad cyborg that took my town from me. This is merely a setback, one that is best dealt with as soon as possible.”

 

“I see…,” Dr. Kuseno hadn’t been sure how to go on. “Of course.” 

 

Genos had been through a lot in his life, losing his family, then his body, only to have it returned to him seemingly overnight. He didn’t have the heart to tell Genos all the doubts that weighed on his mind so instead he said that Genos should come see him in a month, when he had gained his strength back and they would discuss the matter then.

 

True to his word, Genos appeared a few weeks later, ready to undergo the surgery that would return him to a weaponized, cyborg body. 

However, untrue to his word, Dr. Kuseno frowned and said, “Genos, I’ve been thinking, and… I’m sorry I cannot do this.”

 

Genos’s brow had knit in confusion. “What do you mean Doctor? I should still have spare full bodies, correct? A month should have been plenty of time for you to prepare, and after a simple transplant surgery I should be able be fully integrated again into-”

 

“No, Genos,” Dr. Kuseno interrupted, sounding grave. “You misunderstood. I cannot allow you to do this…. To do this to yourself.”

 

Genos stared at him blankly, not understanding or choosing not to. “What do you mean? You consented before when I asked to become a cyborg to avenge my family.”

 

“Genos, when you were fifteen and I found you in the rubble… You were injured, and near death. I did what I had to to save your life.”

 

“For which I am eternally grateful, Doctor. I fail to see how this,” Genos gestured vaguely at himself,” has changed anything.”

 

Dr. Kuseno sighed and braced himself, knowing Genos could be so stubborn when he set his mind on something. “Genos… I don’t know what happened at the End and I dont think I want to know. What I DO know, is that this,” Kuseno gestured broadly at all of Genos, “is a blessing, whether you see it or not. And that is why I am telling you now, I refuse to strip you of this body as well. I will not re-convert you to a cyborg.”

 

It took Genos a long time to speak, letting Kuseno’s words sink in, so when the anger arose, the Doctor was ready for it. 

 

Genos’s hands clenched at his sides and when he spoke his voice was low yet full of a quiet wrath. “Doctor… I did not ask for this body to be returned to me. I don’t even know what happened that night. I did ask you then to make me into a cyborg and I’m asking you again, now. Nothing has changed.”

 

Kuseno sighed.

 

“Yes, it has.”

 

“No, it hasn’t!” Genos barked, voice finally rising. “I have to be stronger, stronger than...than this. How am I supposed to defeat the mad cyborg-our enemy- in this body?... I thought we were in this together!”

 

Genos had stepped in dangerously close. Kuseno could practically feel the rage and hatred rolling off Genos’s shoulders. Kuseno steeled himself for what he was about to say next.

 

“Genos, when is the last time you truly searched for the mad cyborg?”

 

Genos’s grip momentarily faltered, shock flitted across his face. “What…?”

 

“It’s been what, six years now? How much progress have you made?”

 

“I’ve… been busy; training. Being a hero!” Kuseno wondered if Genos’s words sounded as much like excuses as they did to him. 

 

“You grew sidetracked and then complacent and-”

 

Kuseno felt himself jerked forward then, Genos gripping fist fulls of his white coat.

 

“You think I have become complacent?”

 

There was a tense moment of silence before Kuseno spoke.

 

“What will you do Genos? Strike an old man because you don’t get your way?”

 

Genos released him then, with a huff. Genos was not yet at 100% but he was still better off than an elderly scientist. He wouldn’t strike Kuseno, he would never dare. Instead he took his anger out on the surrounding equipment, slamming his arms across a table, knocking over beakers, shattering glass and slashing his arms.

 

Again, if you were to ask him about that day, he would say it was all a red-tinted blur, in which he yelled, and cried and pulled things from shelves until finally he was a heaving mess in a heap on the ground, panting and holding his arms to himself.

 

All Kuseno could do was allow him to let it all out, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, until he was spent. When he approached, Genos was panting and staring at the crimson blood that poured down his arms and pooled at his feet. It seemed the site of his own blood was the only thing quell his wrath.

 

“Doctor…,” Genos gasped, shaking. Dr. Kuseno quickly removed his coat, wrapping it about Genos’s arms to stop the bleeding. After he had guided the young man away from the broken glass to a leather backed chair, Kuseno left just long enough to fetch some proper bandages.

 

“I’m sorry,” Genos finally said, voice low, face pale. He couldn't bring his eyes to meet Kuseno’s, but occasionally he would swipe at a damp eye with a bandaged arm. Kuseno gave him a small smile and patted his back.

 

“Perhaps “complacent” was not the best word. Genos… For the first few years you were so determined, so… blinded by rage. I didn’t think anything could hold you back or slow you down. And then you met that man you call your teacher and suddenly… You weren’t just a machine anymore. And that was the first time I had my doubts, thought maybe we shouldn’t have been so rash to transform you into a living weapon.”

 

Genos looked up at him then, eyes baffled and blood shot.

 

“Do you get what I’m saying, Genos?”

 

“You’re saying I became weak.”

 

“I’m saying… You became happy. And I think that’s worth fighting for.”

 

\---

 

Genos shut off the water, grabbed his towel and dried off best he could to keep water from dripping on the floor. Once dry he pulled on the clothes Saitama had picked for him, a pair of black lounge pants and a green tank top plus some red boxer briefs. Not exactly Genos’s typical style but he wasn’t about to question his Sensei’s choices. He was half shimmied into the pants before he remembered the underwear- he had never worn any as a cyborg but he had quickly discovered that chafing was a thing normal humans had to worry about so he scowled and pulled them on.

 

By the time he had gotten dressed, the fog was clearing from the mirror and he dared to glance at himself, something he typically avoided. Despite this being his real body, it felt so foreign. Dr. Kuseno had done an amazing job it seemed, his face now was nearly exactly as it had been designed by the Doctor’s hands. His hair the same shade of blonde. He thought he was a little taller but he couldn't be sure, he didnt bother to measure.

 

The strangest difference were his arms. He prodded at one shoulder, feeling the give of his skin. He was filling out quite well since starting the exercise routine, he still had a naturally slim waist and broad shoulders, but he felt so tiny compared to what he had been. His arms had packed the most power, had been his most defining feature, and now they might as well have been limp noodles as much good as they did him.

 

\---  
When Genos had come home, wrapped in gauze and still in his human body, Saitama hadn’t questioned anything, just looked him over, taking in the situation at a glance. When Genos had left, he had declared that he would be back after Dr. Kuseno successfully transplanted his brain into one of his spare bodies.

 

Saitama had merely nodded and said, “Oh, yeah? Cool.” At the time.

 

He never mentioned the squirming feeling of doubt in his gut or the way he lost sleep those nights Genos was away any more than he mentioned the massive feeling of relief that washed over him when Genos appeared again, days later, still as mortal as he left.

 

He didn’t ask. He didn’t have to. He just welcomed Genos back and made dinner and ignored the downcast sullen look that crossed Genos’ face every time he caught the younger man glancing at the white bandages about his forearms.

 

After that Saitama accredited Genos’s bad mood to whatever had happened when he had gone to see Kuseno. Maybe a brighter man than he would have realized Genos needed to talk about what happened but Saitama was content to just leave it well enough alone, something he would soon come to regret. He should have told Genos to sit down, take it easy, to relax a bit, adjust.

 

But Genos had been keen to act as if everything was alright, to resume his chores as normal and so Saitama was keen to let it be. A few times he tried to tell Genos not to worry, to skip the dishes, let his arms rest, but Genos insisted he was fine, that he wanted to do the chores. And so Saitama let him hoping it meant things were returning to normal.

 

Until one night he awoke to a strange sound, and the light was on in the bathroom.

 

He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. Glancing to his left he saw Genos’s futon was empty, blanket thrown aside haphazardly. 

 

Saitama was confused a moment then almost chuckled to himself realizing Genos must now be a victim to midnight bathroom breaks like any other normal person. He filed away a life lesson for later, don't drink too much water before bed, and tossed the blanket aside, only to realize it was soaked through.

 

Ew! Had Genos really peed the bed? Saitama grumbled to himself, his hand damp and got up to rinse it off in the kitchen sink. As soon as he stood though his foot made contact with something wet and Saitama glanced down and saw several dark pools dotting from the futons to the bathroom. Blood. 

 

“Genos,” he called, hurrying to the bathroom. He didn't bother to knock, practically busting the door in. Genos was slumped over the sink, attempting (And failing) to rebandage his arms. Blood stained his night clothes and dripped on the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”

 

Genos glanced up, his brown eyes drained, face pale, and yet somehow he still wore his usual serious, stern look. “My wounds reopened in my sleep.”

 

“No shit,” Saitama replied, at his side in an instant, gathering up the soiled bandages, “Why didn't you wake me to help.”

 

“I did not wish to inconvenience you, Sen-”

 

“Yeah, well good job with that,” Saitama snapped. “Hold this, put pressure on the wound to make it stop bleeding.”

 

He ducked out quickly to fetch clean towels, returning to press them against Genos’s bloody arms. The clean bandages Genos had attempted to rewrap his arms with had already been bloodied in his botched attempts, but for now they would have to do until morning when the shops opened. Once Genos was rebandaged he did the best he could to wipe off any excess blood with a damp towel. 

 

Saitama's foul mood radiated off him and he could tell Genos could feel it, hunkering down like a dog with its tail between its legs. Genos didn't speak again until Saitama ushered him back into the living room.

 

Genos tried to refuse. “The bathroom is still a mess I need to-”

 

“You need to sit down and shut up,” Saitama snapped, leading Genos to his own futon instead of Genos’s soiled one. “Lay down.”

 

“I’m covered in-”

 

Without missing a beat Saitama tore Genos’s shirt in half and tugged it off him, throwing it aside. “Lay down.”

 

Maybe it was the tone in his voice, maybe it was due to blood loss, but Genos didn't argue that time. Saitama tossed him both pillows, then rolled up towels to elevate his arms. After that he fetched a glass of water from the kitchen.

 

“Drink this,” he said, tone softer but still strict. Genos complied. 

 

Genos began to object as Saitama set about cleaning the floors but one look silenced him. After that Saitama set about soaking Genos’s soiled sheets and scrubbing the floors. By the time he was done the sun was coming up and Genos had finally dozed off.

 

Saitama frowned and changed into day clothes, quietly slipping out. He found the nearest convenient store and ransacked the medicine section. He scooped up the bandages he thought he would need- it had been awhile since he had to dress his own injuries. He remembered his early days, how much pain he had been in and snagged some pain killers, then a few bottles of orange juice.

 

When he checked out the clerk looked a bit stunned and Saitama didn't realize it was because he had blood on his hands until he was handing her his money.

 

“Um…,” he began, not sure what to say, but luckily she just bagged his goods and didn't ask any questions. He half jogged back home after that, taking his stairs two at a time but he paused when he got to the door. He saw his bloodied hand as it rested on the doorknob. 

 

He knew now that Genos having a human body meant just that- he was human. Mortal. Vulnerable.

 

But actually seeing it… 

 

He had seen Genos torn apart and at the brink of death so many times. But he had also seen Genos come back, rebuilt, good as new. Maybe he had grown jaded to the thought of Genos dying, but now he had a grim reminder dried to the back of his hands.

 

When he finally went back in Genos was still asleep. He fished out the bandages and pain killers and a bottle of orange juice before kneeling by Genos’s side. He hesitated before waking him up.

 

Genos was curled up in Saitama’s pink blanket, the one dotted with hearts. His blonde hair was sticking to his face from sweat and Saitama almost caught himself brushing it away. It was getting long, Saitama thought, might be time for a haircut.

 

For a moment he just wraps pped his arms around his knees and sighed, watching Genos’s chest rise and fall. He almost looked dead but he was there, breathing, just as Saitama had left him.

 

Breathing.

 

For the last couple years Saitama had fallen asleep to the sound of machinery, soft fans. And now he fell asleep to the sound of breathing, something so delicate and fragile and it could stop at any moment. 

 

Genos rolled in his sleep, snapping Saitama from his reverie of dark thoughts. Genos was here and alive and that's what mattered.

 

He reached over and gently shook the younger man's shoulder to wake him. Genos's eyes fluttered open, groggy and confused, still clouded by sleep.

 

Saitama couldn't fight a small grin, reaching out to pat Genos on the face. “C’mon wake up sleepyhead.”

 

He could tell that irritated Genos but he had been curious; at their first spar he had found an excuse to boop Genos on the face, to see what it felt like. Now was no different, he was curious and just wanted to see what it felt like. Real, he thought. Flesh and blood and not a dream.

 

“Sensei,” Genos grumbled as he sat up, voice hoarse. He reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes.

 

“Here,” Saitama offered him the orange juice and the painkillers. “Drink this, take a double of those.”

 

Genos thanked him and did as he was told. There was a moment after swallowing the pills Genos looked like he may be sick again and Saitama flinched but it passed. 

 

After that he insisted they redo the bandages and Genos did not argue, just sat in sullen silence as Saitama worked until he said, “I never had a problem tending to my own repairs before. I did not think it would prove so difficult.”

 

“Yeah. Well, this is a little different than repairs. You don't just get to replace your arms anymore man, so try to take care of the ones you got.”

 

Saitama continued wrapping but didn't look up as he said, “Unless that's what you want. To force your doctors hand , or whatever?”

 

He felt Genos tense. “Wh-what?”

 

“He turned you down, right?” Saitama glanced up, gingerly holding out Genos's arm. “Isn't that what this is about?”

 

Genos frowned and clenched his fist.

 

“Yes. He did,” was all he said. He was too ashamed of his behavior to go into detail but luckily his sensei didn't ask. “Dr Kuseno seems to think… that this is a blessing.”

 

“And you?” 

 

Genos turned his head away, fair hair falling in his eyes. He really would need a haircut soon. 

 

“I feel more cursed than blessed, Sensei. But I am attempting to see his reasoning. You are correct. I asked to be made into a cyborg again and he refused.”

 

“And you're okay with that?”

 

“I have… Accepted it.”

 

“Have you,” Saitama asked quietly, nodding at Genos's badly injured arms.

 

“These were not purposefully inflicted sensei. I… lost myself for a moment after the doctor refused my request. That's all. I have no intentions of purposefully damaging this body so severely that Dr Kuseno has no option but to resort to cybernetic enhancements to save my life- to “force his hand” as you said.”

 

“Well, good,” Saitama said with a bit of a smile, beginning to rise, thinking that was that. “Try to get some more sleep. I'll fix you something to eat.”

 

Saitama made something simple, something easy to stomach. Some eggs with rice.

 

Genos didn't quite listen to his “get some rest” and instead set up their living room table, but Saitama didn't object see no as Genos showed no signs of keeling over just yet. 

 

When Saitama brought the bowls out he noticed Genos did look a little pale and shakey. And yet he still sat perfect seize despite the strain it put on his body. There were so many things Saitama had accredited to Genos's robotic body and so far he had been wrong on all of them.

 

They are in silence for a bit, the only sound the low h of the television going on about the weather and local monster attacks. Genos broke the silence first.

 

“Do you agree with him, Sensei?”

 

Saitama glanced over, mulling over a mouthful. “Hm?”

 

“Do you think… this,” Genos shrugged in a way that gestured to his whole body, “is a blessing?”

 

Saitama was glad Genos was still looking away. That way he never say Saitama hesitate, see the look of guilt when he thought back to that night, at the End, and said, “Yeah. yeah, I do.”

 

\---

As he had promised, tea was ready and breakfast was cooking when Genos emerged from the shower. Genos toweled off his hair before popping into the kitchen. He helped Saitama with the last few preparations before they took everything to the table.

As they enjoyed their breakfast, Saitama marveled that it finally felt like things were getting back to normal. Genos was doing better, calming down; adjusting. After Saitama had insisted on Genos taking up his old training regimen, it had given the hot headed youth something to focus on, a hard goal, and that was the only thing Saitama could properly be proud of as Genos's "teacher."

"Saitama-sensei," Genos began after a moment of thought, "I wanted to thank you."

"Hrm?"

"You were the one to encourage me to take up your training regimen. I've grown stronger every day thanks to you."

"Aw, well, that's what I'm here for, right," Saitama muttered, shrugging off the praise as he always did. It had been over two years and Genos still viewed Saitama with stars in his eyes. That was another thing that had not changed since losing his cyborg body.

He thought that was the end of that, but Genos apparently had more to say. 

"I began the training regimen in hopes of being able to re-enter the Hero Association, and while they have been lenient and temporarily suspended my position, they are growing frustrated and demand I either return to work or step down. And I have finally realized that without my cyborg enhancements I have no chances of continuing as an S-Class hero."

Saitama set his bowl down. He wasn't quite understanding what Genos was getting at.

"Are you... giving up on being a hero, then?"

"Of course not!" Genos said, leaning forward. "I made an agreement with Saitama-sensei that we would enter the Hero Association together on the grounds that you agreed to make me your disciple. I have no intentions of breaking that agreement or to step down as your disciple."

Saitama's eye twitched a bit. He had been putting up with Sensei-this and Sensei-that for damn near three years now; putting an end to all that wouldn't really be a bad thing.

"Well, what'cha going on about then?"

"I may not have the power to be an S-Class but I am qualified to be classified as an B-Class off the bat and clever enough to ascend to A-Class quickly.. I've already taken the exam again," Genos produced a piece of paper tucked away in one of notebooks, showing it to Saitama.

"Oh," Saitama said, surprised, "Good for you. I didn't know you'd taken the exam again."

"It was mostly a formality," Genos said as he tucked the paper away. 

"Despite restarting as a B-class," Genos went on, "The Association decided my involvement at the End of the World warrants a permanent room and board at the Hero Association, designated S-Class hero sector."

"Oh...?" Saitama felt the first inkling of dread build in his gut. Genos had always had the option to live in the HA A-Class and up sector, but had happily chosen to stay with Saitama. Why would he be bringing it up now...?

"Yes. And as the reconstruction should be completed soon, I wanted to let you know, Sensei, I plan to take them up on their offer," Genos said casually, as if he hadn't just dropped a massive news bomb on Saitama out of no where. "In one week's time, I will be moving out."

**Author's Note:**

> ((I don't wanna give spoilers but I'd like to just say that his scars are not self harm scars and were not inflicted on purpose))


End file.
